You played your little tricks
as if I asked to be entertained.
I told you I was parched
and you led me to Marah.
From your lips came no words
when I asked what you meant.
My love met your drought.
You cut me into two.
The audience clapped
for they love when you're cruel.
The autumn leaves fall
but don't blink; be aware.
The ones you thought dead may not be after all.
I'm still here with my case
and with cracks on my lips.
My mouth bleeds with poison.
I'm so happy that it's sick.
"He's playing with himself.
It'll be pretty when he learns
that our little plans weren't ever his to nix."